


Unconscious

by rabidchild67



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, QPQ verse, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 03:58:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6407863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabidchild67/pseuds/rabidchild67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Washington catches his boy unawares.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unconscious

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Quid Pro Quo](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5880157) by [rillrill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rillrill/pseuds/rillrill). 



> Ficlet in rillrill’s Quid Pro Quo universe inspired by [this photo](https://41.media.tumblr.com/837e53e4af3f3f35464ff2dee3541dab/tumblr_o4s7ych93J1tstm5qo1_500.jpg). 
> 
> I hope you don't mind my playing around in your sandbox, but your story has captured all my attention! *tugs forelock* Please accept this filth.

It’s early on a Sunday, before 6:00. The sky has only just begun to lighten, and birds fill the air with song, but day has yet to break. George balances a bag of pastries atop copies of the major Sunday papers he’s brought as he struggles with the key to the front door of Alex’s building. He’s back a day early from a trip to New York—some event where he was Martha’s arm candy for once—and he cannot wait even one more hour to see his boy. Alex is usually up by now anyway, he tells himself.

The apartment is silent when he enters, his shoes too loud on the floorboards as he crosses to the galley kitchen and sets down his purchases. He doesn’t switch any of the lights on—Alex barely sleeps enough as it is, if he’s still out, it’s a good thing. 

George tiptoes to the bedroom—just to check, he tells himself. Light from the encroaching dawn is just beginning to illuminate the room, bright enough to chase the shadows away but not to allow colors to be seen. Everything is muted, rendered in shades of beige and grey and black. Alex lies on his back, hair a dark curtain against the white cotton of the pillowcase, one hand resting beside his face; the other is hidden by the sheet, which has fallen or been pushed to his hips. He’s naked, George notices, which is not at all surprising since the window is open and it’s the middle of summer. George shakes his head and smiles indulgently, and is about to leave him to sleep when Alex stirs.

George pauses in the doorway; if Alex is waking, he wants to be the first thing he sees. But Alex does not open his eyes, instead he stretches. As his body shifts, the sheet is pulled further down, exposing more of his hips, his groin. Alex is half-aroused, his penis lolling against his belly. With a sigh, his lowered hand reaches for it, takes himself lazily in hand. His eyes remain closed as George watches. In the moment, George can think of no more decadent display than his boy sleepily jacking himself off. It’s simultaneously erotic and sweet.

Alex’s is a beautiful dick, straight and uncut, the skin darker than the paleness the rest of his body might predict, with one particularly pronounced vein along the underside. It is this he pays most attention to in his drowsiness, clever fingertips pressing and massaging. George holds his breath as Alex sighs and shifts in the bed, bringing his other hand down to cup his balls. His eyes remain closed as he picks up his pace, working now at the head, hand twisting as his thumbnail digs into his slit. “Oh, Daddy,” he says, his voice colored by sleep and pleasure both. 

George starts, convinced Alex knows he’s there, but no, his eyes remain closed, his expression betrays no sign he’s aware he’s not alone. 

Alex arches his back and throws his head back as he increases his pace, moving the hand at his balls to press expert fingertips against his taint. George can tell he’s close, recognizes the signs. He is suddenly grateful beyond belief to realize this, to know that Alex’s behavior when alone is the same as when they are together. It means Alex is comfortable, that he’s truly given of _himself_ when they make love. George presses the heel of his hand against his own dick as it twitches in response to this revelation, can’t help the small moan that slips past his lips.

Alex’s eyes open and find George’s immediately, dark and full of arousal and want. George licks his lips as he watches, realizes how parched his mouth is. “Come for me, princess,” he urges, his voice low and throaty from dryness and disuse.

Alex smiles and he’s gone, head flung back against the pillow and chest heaving as ejaculate stripes his belly and chest. As he comes, George walks slowly forward, and by the time he’s finished, he’s sitting on the bed. 

“You’re home early,” Alex says happily as George leans in to kiss him.

“Home, yes,” George says. Warmth radiates from his chest to his entire body as he realizes that yes, wherever Alex is is home to him now. He brushes the hair off Alex’s face fondly. “I couldn’t sleep, so I drove down instead of waiting for the train.” 

“If I’d known to expect you, I’d have waited.”

George shakes his head. “We have the entire day now. And I enjoyed the show.” They kiss again, long and slow.

“Ugh, I need a shower,” Alex says when they part, and waggles his eyebrows. “Want to enjoy _that_ show?”

“I can think of nothing I want more in this moment, princess,” George replies and follows him to the bathroom.

\---- 

Thank you for your time.


End file.
